4 comments

Fiction Fantasy

Today, my boss fired me. Reason? I couldn't take a joke. Then there's how my car wouldn't start. Sure, it's a bucket-mobile that's seen better days, but this time as it choked, I swear it sputtered a cackle. But by the time my vehicle turned over, I found the rear elevating. Some genius former colleagues took it upon themselves to hail the tow company. And from the Employee of the Month parking space I earned on top of that. So now here I am walking a country mile to salvation. Who am I kidding? That’s a misnomer. I still have one person to break the news in this grand finale: the wife.

A desaturated sky added a fitting decor. Thick and black, might as well rain on me. How could today get any worse? Mom always said, “When life gives you lemons, sweeten it with a bit a sugar, baby.” How she says it, she leaves off the ‘r’ in “sugar.” As I think back to her smiling wisdom, I closed my eyes, raising my face to feel the subtle kisses from the clouds.

The rain. Droplets graze my face, soothing my skin. They felt like warm pillows, moisturizing my cracked skin. Well, I forgot to lotion myself this morning. This is my moment. A moment of peace. Might as well enjoy it. Just forget the world as I stand between a rock and a hard place.

I twirled and danced a ballad in mental darkness as the rain poured its love. It felt so real in my imagination. There she stood in my arms, gazing into my eyes. Sports Decorated 2034 Swimsuit Model of the Year. She was all the rave back then, making many housewives furious. That year the magazine came out was so bad, the model was dubbed “Home Wrecker of the Year” by women-centered publications and the interwebs.

Our hands depart as she executes a series of pirouette. She frolics like a pixie, dancing from petal to petal, then closed in, ending the performance, resting within my clutches, giving her back. Her head tilts, eyes closed and mouth pursed. Breath brushed across my lips. This day couldn’t be any better. I’m embracing the woman of my dreams.

Our eyes interlocked, throwing sparks, until — Her face. It twists and torques. She can’t hold her composure. Something is trying to break free. Words try to escape, but those glistening pairs of pink flesh under her nose resist parting. Those beautiful eyes, once slender and sultry, transformed into a valley of fear. Then —

“Bwahahahaha!”

I opened my eyes, and just as fast, my love dissipated from existence. All that’s left in my grasp are soft, red objects. The tingle returns. Only this time, it graduates louder into echoes of chuckles. One becomes two. Two becomes a few. The few becomes the many. Before I knew it, an audience heckled me. They’re all around, yet nowhere to be seen in any direction. That’s until I looked between my arms where my love once live. I’m holding a pile of smiles.

Yes, smiles. Reminiscent of wax lips I used to get around Halloween, only these are alive. On top of that, they’re laughing. I dropped them in disgust, thinking of what I almost lip-locked with. It’s not raining in the logical sense, not by any stretch of the imagination. That’s it. I’m just imagining things. It has to be. There’s a possibility coworkers slipped something into my food in the break area.

Skyward, I’m greeted by the clouds as faces I knew. Men, women, all who crossed my path, laughing and jeering in my direction. And from them, the source of these smiles, pelting the Earth. The world’s laughing at me. Once a metaphor, now my reality.

I’m haunted by the chants. Doesn’t matter how fast these peg-legs move, the shrieks of mockery followed. Under an honing nor an underpass proved no sanctuary. The falling lips will slither, navigating to laugh in my face. I’ve tried the subway. It’s much faster. The thought of home became ever sweeter. But when I thought I freed myself from this nightmare, low and behold, the sneers found their way to my presence. Pairs of lips appeared out of a man’s cup of coffee, all converging to my location. Odd enough, none of the passengers took notice. Not even the man as he consumes a few of them.

I rush off at the next stop. My screams for help go unanswered. Security? Useless. Rat bastards only scrolled away at their smartphones on the clock. People droned about as if I never existed, let alone each other. As I make my way back to surface level, godrays penetrate the exit, blessing my face. Freedom. It’s been a hectic day. Upon reaching the top of the stairs, all seemed normal. Pedestrians are going about their way as expected. What’s more important, the sky is clear. It must have been a rogue cloud passing by.

“Hey! Dumbass!”

My body turned on its own to address the source. Before I could register what happened, a pair of juicy slug-lips slammed against my own. The teasing. The taunts. No, not again. The sky darkens, casting a hue of blood. Voices grow in intensity. I could only catch a glimpse. Blood clouds formed into the shapes of my former colleagues. All pointing. All expressing the Buddha’s grin. A street vendor hails me. Someone acknowledges me! A gentle lady, decades my senior, holding a tray of pastries. 

“Look around,” a voice said.

The earth came to a full stop. Everyone froze. They all had the same Buddha smile, pointing in my direction. Didn’t matter who. Man. Woman. Child. Young and old. Public servants to the vagrants. I’m center stage in a world of raining laughter from slugs. This must be the encore. Please wake me up.

As I walk by, lips pelt my face and the people’s expressions freeze like mannequins. Their laughter drowns out my thoughts, reminding me of something I read about Iran. They supposedly have a “white room” where everything is white - the floor, ceiling, walls, maybe even your clothes. All you can hear is white noise. Other than your hair and skin, you’re deprived of your senses over a prolonged period. An effective method of torture that doesn’t involve physical contact. I can’t feel anything. In front of me lies an infinite sea, passing judgment.

Then it hits me. An audible beep awakened me from my trance. The smiles negated to frowns. All the chaffing and jibs converted into scolds and insults. My legs picked up the pace. The cadence of the beeps quickens. I’m going to make it home no matter what. The raining smiles passed by, screaming on my behalf. I’m in control. The world can pelt me if it wants. I can care not, so I plowed through them all like a heartless bull. Nothing is stopping me. Home breaks the horizon, peaking its silhouette against the backdrop of the setting sun. My load lightens. Feet free like Mercury. This is the end. The home stretch. Honey, I’m home.

I open the door to my castle and there she stood, hustling in the kitchen. She’s singing an old tune, long before our time, while preparing dinner.

“You hungry, dear?” she said.

I’m too exhausted to answer. I know she’s looking in my direction, so I wave an affirmative while dropping my body on the recliner. A long sigh escapes my lips. Lips… My goodness, what was all that about? I have time to sort out what a crazy nightmare this has been. Lawyers ran through my mind, plus a trip to the hospital for a blood test is in order. Someone’s going to pay. But for the moment, a bit of television should help calm my nerves, before breaking the news to the wife.

I flick the remote, and lips appear on the TV screen. My heart races at Olympic gold speeds. Laughter fills my home. Lips land on my lap. I look up and an infestation rains down on me. The beeping reemerged. I screamed, but my wife remained at ease, going about her routine. One look at the window, a crowd has gathered, all smiling in my direction in silence, pointing. When I closed my eyes, one thought filled my mind: I think — I think I’ve gone mad.

As my eyes fluttered open, I realized that the spectators who were outside had now invaded my home as if they stood there all along. They formed a circle around me, their stares piercing and their fingers close to my face, all cackling as if I’m the punchline. Amidst them, I could see my wife, her lips adorned with one of those peculiar lip slugs. The beeping sounds I had been hearing transformed into a prolonged tone, and darkness engulfed my world. Curtains.

So there I laid on the office floor at work. Paramedics did their best to resuscitate using mouth-to-mouth. I heard a colleague cry. She wailed I was a dumbass for taking an office bet on eating stale donuts long beyond their edible state. Not my best call, given the sugar transcended from white to gray. Other coworkers escorted away her at the behest of the medical personnel. It wasn’t the donuts that did me in, per se. The problem lies in the fact they contained nuts and in abundance. I’m allergic to nuts. And since we had an office party with a lot of spirits tossed around, we left sound judgement at the receptionist's desk. And the laughing? Well, apparently, I was so drunk I stumbled my way into the daycare section of the office. The children, bless their soul, who were there, giggled and prodded me to react as I passed out from a swollen throat. It didn’t help when one runt decided to Babe Ruth my face with a plastic bat. There’s always that one who ups the ante of a good time.

The paramedics stopped their attempts to confirm the time. My now-former boss over watched, turning away at the sight of my body. His secretary rubs his back as he realized my life had departed.

“Damn,” he said. “Now his wife is going to sue me. And to think I was going to fire his ass after the party.”

Here I am. In the pits of hell after falling out of the boat, crossing the River Styx. Me spewing my story to the Devil himself. And what does he have to say about all this?

“Bwahahahaha!”

February 24, 2024 08:54

You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.

4 comments

Alexis Araneta
12:47 Mar 08, 2024

What a ride ! Such an imaginative story here. Great job !

Reply

Show 0 replies
05:09 Mar 05, 2024

Wow, that was a wild ride! Very creative and surreal, nicely done!

Reply

Show 0 replies
Kristina Aziz
17:10 Mar 02, 2024

This was a deliciously creepy story! Well done!

Reply

OP FOR
20:55 Mar 02, 2024

Thank you!

Reply

Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

Bring your short stories to life

Fuse character, story, and conflict with tools in Reedsy Studio. 100% free.